Saturday, October 3, 2015

WHO IN THE PLUPERFECT HELL DUG ALL THESE HOLES

Who in the
pluperfect hell dug all these holes – and I wish he would stop digging.

One of my
favorite movies – a classic in black and white – is God’s Little Acre.

In a way I
identify with that movie, except instead of digging the holes, I have spent my
life filling them in.

I just had
my septic tank pumped out and the kaka pumper man said that judging by the
level in the tank I may need to replace my drain field in the near future: four
or five grand.

I have
always looked down the road and believed I could see smooth riding ahead; but when I
get there some son-of-a-bitch has filled the road with more holes.

I get a good
income tax return and a cap falls off a tooth…
It seems there is always something to keep my head just above water
level.

I have
rolled past the hump of my seventh decade but unlike Tietie l don’t have the
undying confidence that there is gold at the bottom of the next hole.

Don’t get me
fucking wrong. I am a fortunate person
and I know it. I am in good health for
my age; I have had great adventures; I am married to a beautiful young wife; I
live in rural Maine in an area I love; I can still ride my scoot; I have two
Maine Coon Cats and a bottle of John Jameson whiskey on the cupboard.

But
son-of-a-bitch, it would be nice if Tietie would quit digging holes.

Maybe I need
to catch me an albino – and make him look through the ground and tell me the
drain field is all right.

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